


Maiden and the Rose, The

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Other - Freeform, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4215523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depicting love and loss on various levels, the events take place in a night-time garden where a maiden is bewitched by a rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maiden and the Rose, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

There is a hidden valley where the fairest flowers grow,  
And through its verdant meadows does a rushing river flow.  
The birds and beasts and honeybees among its hedges dwell,  
But what its name or place may be my heart will never tell.

One night as I was passing o’er the spiral garden walk,  
I spied the finest bloom of all upon a slender stalk.  
So tall and white and fair it shone; it filled the air with scent,  
And all the stars in heaven’s vault seemed on its beauty bent.

Upon its green and upright stem there was a single thorn,  
And were I there to pluck it would its loveliness be shorn.  
From out the full-blown flower came a clear and crystal voice  
That filled my ears and pierced my heart and left me with a choice.

“O Maiden sweet and kind,” it said, “do leave me on the tree;  
My roots grow deep within this soil, and tall and strong I be.  
So long I’ve dwelt here ‘neath the stars of Elbereth the Fair,  
That were you now to take me, child, my heart would wander there.”

I could not bear to leave it then, and I began to pine,  
For in my heart I loved it well and would that it were mine.  
“Dear Rose, I cannot leave you now! Your beauty’s all I see,  
And now that I have found you I must keep you close to me.”

The rose began to tremble and its petals then to fall,  
As in my hand all shivering it heard the Kindler’s call.  
“Farewell, my love, for now I go! The wind blows to the West!”  
And off across the sea it fled to Varda’s gentle breast.

“My Rose!” I wept, and in my grief I clutched it to my chest;  
In haste and pride and thoughtlessness I’d failed to pass the test.  
The flower I had coveted had gone to take its rest  
Across the sea in Lórien with Those who love it best.

There is a verdant valley where the fairest flower grew,  
But now that it is gone from there the garden’s days are few.  
Still on its paths and labyrinths I’ve countless hours spent  
In search of the enchanting rose that singing Westward went.


End file.
